


Cassowary

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Vignette, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 11:04:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21391114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Tuvok’s malfunctioning.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	Cassowary

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The doors of her ready room whoosh open, and Kathryn folds her hands atop her desk, dreading the on-coming conversation. Her chief of security strolls in with the same usual tight posture he always has, his expression utterly neutral and his long, black wings neatly folded behind his back. They take up so little space when they’re behaving, almost completely invisible when he’s facing her, yet she knows they can expand wider than any of Voyager’s open corridors. Her own, much smaller brown wings twitch behind her. This is going to be awkward, she just knows it. Tuvok comes to a stop right in front of her desk. She doesn’t bother offering him a chair. 

He asks, “Yes, Captain?”

Kathryn gives it a minute. She can’t help but hope that he’ll bring it up first and spare her the difficulty. He has to know that something’s wrong, has to have suspected that she’d have to call him on it sooner or later. She put it off as long as she could out of respect for his position and their friendship, but at the end of the day, he’s still a member of her crew, as subject to discipline as anybody else. 

Finally, she says, “You need to report to sickbay, Commander.”

Tuvok lifts one perfectly pointed eyebrow and stubbornly informs her, “I am not sick.”

“You have twitchy-wing syndrome, Tuvok. I know it, everyone on the bridge knows it—I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire ship knows it by now. You have to go see the Doctor and figure out what’s causing it.”

Tuvok insists, “I have my wings fully under my control.” But even as he’s talking, one quickly flutters out, and Kathryn catches the rush of sleek feathers before it’s disappearing again. 

She sighs, “It’s not a judgment on you, Tuvok. This has nothing to do with your logic or self-control. It could happen to anyone, and there could be a million things causing it. It could even be a symptom of some form of radiation our sensors haven’t picked up yet. We need to know.”

“That is highly unlikely.”

“Tuvok, just go to sickbay.”

He frowns at her. He doesn’t open his mouth and defy her orders again, but he also doesn’t turn to leave. She brings up the nail on the coffin: “You knocked over three ensigns yesterday.”

“I was testing their balance and reaction to sudden stimuli.”

She almost snorts. She’s _almost_ proud of him for being able to think so quickly on his feet. But it also tells her how serious it must be if he’s willing to lie to cover it up. She repeats, “Sickbay. _Now_.”

Tuvok open his mouth a final time, then closes it. She watches him slowly accept his defeat. Then he turns to leave, and his wings abruptly flare out wide enough to knock one of her potted plants off the shelf. He turns to tell her, “I apologize,” and, “I meant to do that.”

“_Sickbay!_”

He finally goes, gorgeous, twitchy wings and all.


End file.
